


That thin line between right or wrong

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Braeden & Derek Hale Friendship, Cora Hale & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Hurt Stiles, M/M, POV Stiles, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Scott McCall is a Bad Friend, Scott is a Bad Friend, Scott is a Failwolf, Sheriff Stilinski & Stiles Stilinski Feels, Sheriff Stilinski Feels, Sick Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Leaves, Stiles Leaves Beacon Hills, Stiles Leaves the Pack, Stiles Stilinski Feels Guilty, Stiles Stilinski Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Stiles Stilinski Loves Derek Hale, Stiles is Pushed Out of the Pack, Stiles-centric, Stilinski Family Feels, Theo is a Little Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-05 17:37:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14049366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: An AU based on the Donovan-storyline from Season 5A. After Stiles is attacked at the library and accidentally kills Donovan, he’s in shock, panics and runs. Hurt, confused, ridden with guilt and depressed, he wonders how it ever came to this point where nothing will ever feel right again. So, he decides to call the one man who knows won’t judge him. But will Derek arrive on time to save Stiles’ life?This story basically alternates from most of Season 5, ignoring the rest of the series. Since I hated what they did with Stiles’ character after Donovan’s attack, I decided to change it all.This story is completely written from Stiles’ POV.





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_Run Stiles, Run!_

My lungs burst out of my body as I began to run away from the library instinctively, my feet almost beyond my control, as if they wanted to protect me against myself.

All I could see before my eyes was Donovan’s body, stuck to the ground with a steel beam running through his chest and blood pooling beneath him.

I couldn’t stay there. I just couldn’t … couldn’t move, couldn’t wish for it to be undone. I was devastated.

After everything that had happened to us before tonight, I knew I could never come back from this. This was the end of it all. Scott would never forgive me for Donovan’s death and I was at the end of my rope.

Physically and mentally, I knew this was it. I was hurt too. A burning pain surged through me, refusing to me think straight. What had I done?

I stumbled outside the library after moving my phone back into my pocket with Donovan’s blood on my hands. I had called 911 but hung up before anyone could reply.

I did it all on automatic pilot. It felt as if my entire system was no longer able to listen to my brain.

My mind, so foggy and so confused, wouldn’t control my limbs anymore. My feet kept on moving, my legs burned.

My brain wasn’t functioning properly anymore. I had lost all function, or so it seemed. My chest hurt, my heart pounded in my chest. I was hurting.

God, my shoulder ached so much. What a scary thought it was to think I was going crazy. I was. I was turning slowly into a mad man.

I needed to think things through. If I called Scott, he would accuse me of not abiding his rules. He wouldn’t understand. He would never forgive me for this.

Donovan’s eyes stared back at me, screaming at me that I had become a murdered. I couldn’t think. I ran. I needed to run away.

I needed to get out of there, without thinking things through, even though there was a foggy sense somehow that I still knew what I was doing.

I ended up at my jeep and crawled in. My hands shook, my body trembled and my mind went all over the place. The adrenaline which held me upright in my fight against _that chimaera_ was still kicking in. Until now.

The sheriff’s car arrived. A man walked in, without noticing me. I had to get the hell out of there. I didn’t wait for him to return. I needed to escape _now_ , before he saw me and arrested me.

My dad would be so sad if he knew what I had done. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing his trust, but I would. He wouldn’t forgive me for this.

My hands, still trembling like they had never done before, followed the smooth rhythm of the engine of my jeep.

They lingered on top of the steering wheel, tapping the leather in a steady pace. I had killed Donovan. I had killed him out of self-defense, I knew that, but I had still killed him.

God, I was a killer.

I had crossed an unforgiving line. That thin red line that some people crossed at least once in their lifetime and others never did. The line where people choose to become murderers, or not.

I became a killer, because Donovan wanted to get back at me for something my dad supposedly had done all those years ago.

I killed him and a part of me was glad that he was gone. The other part of me knew this wasn’t his fault either. He had been turned into a Chimaera, a Wendigo, who had bitten me in the shoulder and left me powerless and defenseless alone at the library.

I should have run away. I shouldn’t have run inside. I should have been more careful. I should have …

Why had Scott left me alone? Why had Malia? Why didn’t anyone remember that I was human? Why did they leave me, when the whole town was in shock because of all the dead kids?

God, why didn’t I remind them on occasion that I could die easily? That people like Donovan could attack me and eat my legs and devour me alive?

No. Whatever else happened, I couldn’t and shouldn’t blame anyone else. Donovan died because of me. My guilt was enormous. I would have to live with this for the rest of my life.

I drove to my house and ran inside. Dad was gone of course. He was at the sheriff’s station, unaware of the fact that his son had turned into a murderer. He wouldn’t notice I was gone until it was late.

I winced when I ran inside the house and looked around in shock. I had left it this morning, feeling relatively okay, even though completely stressed out because of the Theo-thing.

Now, nothing would ever be the same again. I ran to my room and looked at my investigation board. In anger and fear I wiped the whole thing and tore apart the gathered photos.

No more.

I would no longer do this. I was done. I had to go. I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and jotted down some words towards my dad, hoping he would understand.

_I’m sorry, dad. I’m so sorry about Donovan. Please don’t hate me. Please forgive me. I can’t stay here after what happened. I need to get away. Please, don’t find me. Don’t follow me. Please, dad. I love you so much._

  * _Stiles_



Once dad would find Donovan, he would know I was involved and he would draw his conclusions. He would then send out an APB to find me. He _would_ find me and that was okay. It was inevitable, I suppose.

I felt so guilty. I refused to think about what I was doing. What my running away would do to my dad. I had no choice. After he uncovered the truth, he would know that.

From this moment on, I would become a fugitive. Nobody would believe that I had acted beyond my control, in a fit of anger.

No judge or jury would _not_ convict me after this, because nobody even knew that Donovan was a Wendigo. I couldn’t really get up and say that, could I? They would believe I killed him because of my dad, to protect him.

I had killed a teenager and even though he was a ruthless killer with a mouth in his hand, I had still murdered him. He was the one with a stake through his chest. I wasn’t.

I grabbed a few things, made sure I had some cash money and ran back to the front door, preparing to head out to my jeep. My throbbing head, aching shoulder and tired brain came back into focus when I realized that I was still running like a madman. My ADHD was overwhelming.

Suddenly my legs stopped. Just like that. I could no longer control them and I stumbled forward, suddenly too tired to be able to do anything but sink down to the asphalt in front of my dad’s house and take long, deep breaths.

The jeep was right in front of me, but it felt like a mile away. My hands touched the ground, barely feeling the concrete beneath my fingertips. The asphalt dug into my hands. I felt like giving in, just dying and forgetting about running away.

I was so scared my dad would show up suddenly, but he didn’t. Finally, I was able to stand upright and walk almost normally back to my jeep. I got inside.

Despite my throbbing head I was able to focus on driving the jeep. I drove out of the street calm and controlled, realizing only then that I still had Donovan’s blood on my hands. I had forgotten to wash up.

My entire body was weary. My shoulder ached like never before. The pain became hard to bear. I refused to think about it.

Weariness overcame me as I drove out of Beacon Hills, going forward as fast as I could, taking the smaller roads past the preserve and through the town, until I reached its border and relaxed a bit.

I turned my phone to silent and refused to look at it. I prayed my dad wouldn’t come home until the morning, unless of course they had already discovered my involvement in Donovan’s death and were trying to track me down already.

A few hours passed and darkness fell quickly. I was exhausted. The headache, my aching shoulder and my tired legs and feet pushing the pedals, were wearing me down.

Pain was just pain, you could take it and stuff it away in a far corner inside your brain while adrenaline kicked in and took over. That’s what I had done to get to this point.

I drove blindly, until finally, I could drive no longer. My eyelids drooped. My head was killing me and my entire body felt like it would die immediately if I didn’t stop and rest. My hands no longer shook but now felt cramped around the steering wheel. My shoulder felt like it was burning from the inside out.

About three miles down the road into a town about four hours away from Beacon Hills, I saw the familiar neon sign of a sleazy motel with hardly any cars on the parking lot.

Forty bucks a night, the sign read, no questions asked of course. You couldn’t go any cheaper than that. I had to focus on where I was, using the car’s battered GPS to orientate myself.

The jeep came to an abrupt stop, I crawled out and made my way to the dark and filthy reception, where a young guy with greasy long hair waited for new arrivals.

I barely looked at him and he didn’t ask for my ID. No questions asked, remember? I paid in cash for a room with a clean bed and a single table and chair.

The guy didn’t care about me and I didn’t care about him. People like them saw people from all types and kinds all the time. He couldn’t care less. Tomorrow he would no longer remember me, which was just what I needed.

“Room 20,” he barked, practically throwing the key at me. “Be out by noon tomorrow.”

I grasped the key and stumbled out of his little room, leaving the jeep parked behind the building so it wouldn’t be spotted from the road.

Besides my bag, I had no luggage. Tomorrow I would find whatever I needed for my new solitary life. I felt so sad that I would have to spend the rest of my days alone. I was so bloody, damned sad.

But my head. My shoulder. God, my body had never ached this much since the Nogitsune. I knew I had overdone myself, that I had hurt myself more than I should have.

I should have gone to the hospital with that bite on my shoulder. It was infected probably and it may have infected the rest of my body too, bacteria interesting my bloodstream. I didn’t need to be a doctor to notice that.

I was just about able to shut the door behind me before I literally sunk through my legs, not even able to reach the crappy bed anymore.

My head barely missed the nightstand. My body just gave up. It collapsed into itself. I fell to the ground on my side, not knowing anything anymore for a very long time.

  *******

It was the sun that woke me. It shone through the open curtains, blinding me as I lay on the ground next to the bed, facing the window.

My head pounded like crazy and I was barely able to move, my body still aching like crazy. I knew this was not good. I had never experienced anything like this before. My shoulder felt like it had been run through with a hot steel rod.

There was a banging on the door. Someone knocked constantly in a steady rhythm. A voice spoke up.

“Cleaning services! Can I come in?”

It took me a while to realize that I was in a sleazy motel lying on the dirty carpet next to a bed. My senses kicked in quickly. My mind gathered the missing dots.

It must have been way after noon already. I had to do something or they would find me lying on the ground and would call a doctor or an ambulance.

Beyond any human strength, I crawled up and managed to reach the door, standing wavering on my legs but able to unlock the door.

“Cleaning,” the woman repeated when she saw me open the door a little. Her plucked eyebrows frowned. “What’s going on in here?”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered in a hoarse voice, not even faking my illness, “I’m sick. I need to stay one more day. Could you tell the desk clerk that I’ll be staying longer?”

She looked at me suspicious, then saw my pale face and tired expression and nodded in faked sympathy.

“You need to pay upfront in cash for an extra night.”

“Oh. Hang on.”

I looked behind me, searching for my wallet in the backpack I had brought, knelt down and dug out sixty bucks. Even though I couldn’t afford to spend too much, I had no choice.

“Keep the rest,” I spoke hoarsely.

She nodded slowly, a sly grin dancing on her face at the sight of the extra cash.

“Do you need a doctor, kid?”

I slightly shook my head.

“No. It’s just a bout of the flu. I’ll be fine.”

She frowned but didn’t say much more.

“Okay. If you need anything, press 0 on the phone. You’re not on any drugs, are you? Why are you out here alone? You’re too young, aren’t you?”

Despite my predicament I smiled bravely.

“No. I’m older than I look.”

“Right. And you’re not dying?”

“Of course not,” I sighed wearily. “Can I go back to bed now?”

“Sure,” she said. “Just make sure you don’t die, okay? The boss doesn’t like a mess in here. Just call us if you would be dying.”

The woman laughed quietly at her own joke.

“If you’re in bad shape, Jack can drop you off at an ER before you croak and nobody will be none the wiser that you spent your last hours in here dying. Dead people are bad for our reputation, you know?”

“That’s comforting.” I grinned lightly, appreciating the joke despite everything I was going through. “Thanks.”

“See you around, kid.”

She left without cleaning the room, sensing I didn’t need to hassle right now. I slowly shut the door and managed to close the curtains quickly, leaving the too bright sunlight out.

Then I sunk back onto the bed and felt my entire body burn up. I was running a high fever, there was no doubt about that.

My hand touched the back of my shoulder wincing at the odd wound shape. The flesh was swollen and hot to the touch. This was not good. I guess there was no doubt about bacteria now.

I had never felt so alone. Even though I knew that running away would now be a part of my life and I would have to do it without my friends, I couldn’t bear to think of a life without them now.

I felt tears escape my eyes, crying for the first time in years. Self-pity combined with pain is not a good combination for someone like me. I didn’t do self-pity.

I sunk my head into the pillows and tried to find a good position to sleep in.

I’ll get medication, I reassured myself. Nothing some painkillers and fever meds won’t cure. I mentally forced my body to heal itself. But I was no doctor and I couldn’t fix this.

Sleep came mercifully.

*********

My eyes struggled hard to open themselves. It was very dark in the room, the only light coming in peeped through the curtains.

It was a very early sunrise that came in. Another afternoon and night had passed and I was a wreck. I hadn’t eaten in over a day and I was parched but couldn’t even get myself some water.

I could barely lift my head. My body shook with fever as it had never done before. My shoulder felt like it was going to kill me. This was really, really bad.

I would die in this sleazy motel and they would find my corpse in a few days, already stinking of death. I did _not_ want to die, even though I loathed myself right now.

I stared at the motel’s phone standing on the table. I’d die just crawling over there to dial my dad for help. My body could not move another inch. I had never felt so helpless in my life.

That hospital bed looked very inviting right now. Even a nice comfortable sheriff’s holding cell seemed appealing right now.

My phone.

My phone was still stuffed in my back pocket. I had slept for two days in my clothes and top of my phone and I could only pray that it still had some battery left.

Derek. I needed to call him. He would understand. He wouldn’t judge me. He would help me. He would tell me what to do about my dad and Scott and Lydia and Malia and all the others. Derek was my only chance for survival right now.

The battery was running on empty, that was the first thing I noticed. The second thing I saw, was the tons of messages from my friends and my dad and the missed calls and the many, many attempts to find me.

They would track me down for sure, but I couldn’t think about that right now. I didn’t have much time left and if I wanted to survive this, I would have to get help.

I tried to remember where I was … _the road, sleazy Night Motel or something_. That’s all I knew. The number 20 crept into my mind. That must be my room number.

Derek’s number was stored in my favorite’s list. He picked up after two tones.

“Stiles, where the hell are you? Scott’s been on the phone forever. They say you ran away. What the hell is going on?”

Derek sounded simple, uncomplicated, efficient and strong as ever. Tears sprung into my eyes.

I had to fight hard to find my voice. I heard someone spell out the address and the number. That same person also told Derek that I was dying.

It was my own voice, I knew, but it could have been someone else’s. I just knew that I needed help and that he was the only one who could save me right now.

“Don’t tell my dad,” I whispered. “Don’t tell Scott. Please, swear that you won’t.”

“I swear. I’m on my way,” was all he said.

I knew he would drive like crazy, ignoring all signs, to get here as fast as he could. He was, after all, only a few hours away.

My mind had ordered my hands and feet and legs and body to drive into his direction. To go find him and be with him and make him help me. It had seemed logical to do so. Derek would understand what I was going through right now. He had been there too.

I dropped the phone on the bed and tried to ignore the pain, the sickness, the trembling and that godawful pain in my shoulder.

Somehow, I managed to crawl under the sheet and roll myself into a fetal position, waiting, panting, chilling yet sweating and heaving. For how long, I didn’t know.

Darkness came and I let it. Derek would save me after all. There was no doubt in my mind that he would.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kudos and comments!   
> If you like this story, please leave a comment or a kudos - they're much appreciated!

**Chapter 2**

The next thing I knew, there was a hard knock on the door, followed by voices, followed by someone who pushed a key into the lock and opened the door.

I was still lying on the bed with my back towards the door and couldn’t move an inch. My whole body felt like it was dying.

I was dying.

A male voice spoke to someone else.

“Thanks.”

I vaguely heard the rustling of crispy bills. A female voice answered.

“If he’s going to die, then don’t let him croak in here. I hate it when that happens. Get him out of here before it’s too late. We warned him about this earlier. We don’t want trouble with the cops.”

“How considerate of you,” the male voice snapped.

His voice almost spat out the words in pure contempt. The door shut. Another female voice spoke, closer to the bed. I felt a hand in my throat.

“He’s close to death,” she said.

Braeden. Was that Braeden’s voice. A third voice was added. Cora. Cora Hale?

“His heartrate is slowing down. We’re almost too late.”

A cool hand was placed on my forehead. I could just melt into it, so good did it feel to me to have something cold against my skin.

“He’s burning up,” Derek spoke again. “Jesus, what the hell happened to him, Cora?”

Derek had come. Derek had come for me and he had brought his sister and Braeden. God, I could have cried of happiness had I not been so sick.

I tried to open my eyes and look at them, never before so grateful for their presence, but I couldn’t even do that. I just lay there, waiting for them to make a first move and help me. I was so lost.

“Get those blankets and sheets off him,” Braeden instructed, somehow sensing that Derek and Cora were at a loss. I had dreamt about seeing Derek again, but not like this.

“Cora, run a bath,” she ordered. “Derek, help me get him up. We need to get that fever down before he has a seizure.”

“He needs a hospital, not a bath, Braeden. He’s dying.” That was Derek again, rational and cool as ever.

“He won’t even make it to a hospital like this,” Braeden spoke firmly. “First we have to get that fever down. It’s spiking. Then we’ll see, when he wakes up properly, what we’ll do. He called you for a reason, Derek. He needs our help. If he wanted to see a doctor, he would have called 911. Don’t forget we found him in this sleazy motel, far away from everyone. Scott called you sounding quite desperate, didn’t he? Something happened in Beacon Hills and Stiles will be the one deciding what to do when he wakes up.”

My slumber overwhelmed me. I drifted in and out of consciousness, while catching most of their argument. Braeden understood, I sensed that. She knew what it was like to be on the run.

“In a hospital he’ll be helped immediately,” Cora objected, agreeing with Derek. “He’s human and he’s hurt, Braeden.”

“You know everyone’s looking for him,” Braeden spoke. “If what he says is true, he’ll be arrested.”

“Better to be arrested than to be dead,” Cora argued.

“I won’t have his death on my conscious,” Derek said. “You know he needs a real doctor, Braeden.”

“I’ve had my fair share of injuries,” the bounty hunter spoke. “We can do this. Cora, please. This is what Stiles wants.”

Cora sighed. “I’ll go run that bath.”

I felt the sheets and blankets being taken away from me by Derek. I wanted to hold onto them but couldn’t. It was so cold without them covering my shaking form, but my saviors were merciless.

I was still lying there in the same clothes, with my sneakers on. They twisted my body around and I hissed when they touched my shoulder by accident.

“God, what the hell is that?”

Derek hissed when he pulled back the fabric hiding the wound on my shoulder. I hadn’t seen it yet in its entirety, but I didn’t need to. It was large, massive and very much infected. It was pushing bacteria into my bloodstream as we spoke.

Large, familiar hands were placed on my face, touching both cheeks and tapping them slightly.

“Stiles. Stiles, it’s us. Can you hear us?” Derek’s voice never sounded like this.

Usually it was a bit rough and harsh. I had only heard him talk like that when he said goodbye to me in Mexico and over the phone, during our rare talks. Usually we texted. I could have wept out of pure happiness that I was no longer alone to deal with this mess.

Donovan is dead. I killed him. They didn’t know yet that I was a murderer now.

“Stiles, open your eyes. Who did this to you?”

I managed to pry open my eyes, seeing Derek hovering over. The bath ran, the door to the bathroom was open.

“Hey Der,” I slurred, “thanks for coming, dude.”

The wolf smiled, despite everything.

“What happened, Stiles? What the hell happened to your shoulder?”

“W-Wendigo bit me. All f-fun and party in Beacon H-Hills right now,” I croaked. “Attack me at the s-school library. T-tried to eat my l-legs. H-hated my dad. I k-killed him. S-scaffolding came down.”

Derek held his breath listening to my words. Braeden was on my other side, helping me out of the sweater and T-shirt while Derek held me up.

The pain was unbearable when Braeden shuffled me around to get a closer look at the wound that covered most of my shoulder blade.

“This Is really bad,” she muttered to Derek, but of course I heard.

“Damn it,” Derek said. “What the hell happened? Why didn’t you call for help, Stiles?”

“It’s not your fault,” I whispered, grabbing his arm. “You were h-happy, didn’t w-want to ruin it. Nothing n-new after all.”

Derek nodded quietly but I could see the emotions raging his face.

“Hospital it is then,” Braeden said. “We can’t fix a blood infection with some pain medication.”

“No,” I objected. “No hospital.”

“You will die when you’re sick like this,” Derek said. “Stiles, it could already be too late.”

I looked Derek in the eye.

“No. My d-dad will hate me.”

“Stiles, that was pure self-defense. Did you rather have that Wendigo eat your legs?” Derek almost yelled. “You’re dying, Stiles. I can’t bite you. I’m no longer an Alpha. I can’t save you like this.”

“It’s okay,” I whispered. “It’s okay, Der.”

“Okay, bath first, then we’ll see. If we’re lucky, that wound might be the cause of the infection and those bacteria aren’t in his blood stream yet,” Braeden said. “Let’s try with antibacterial medication first and painkillers. I know this guy who might be able to help.”

“Call him,” Derek said.

“Cora, take over.”

Braeden moved back and handed me over to Cora, who helped me lie down again while Derek untied my shoes and removed my socks. I felt so weak I couldn’t even lift my arm.

My upper body was moved up again. My head slumped forward and every single move cut through me like a knife, but I was too tired to care or even to wince.

Braeden was on the phone. Cora held on tight while Derek continued undressing me, stripping me down to my boxers. I was embarrassed but couldn’t care less what he saw.

It was as if Derek didn’t even notice that I was practically naked when he lifted me up bridal stile. He brought me to the tiny bathroom and lowered me gently into the cooling bath, with a towel resting in my back.

It felt oh so good, even if my body was trembling from cold sweat and fevers. I just wanted to sleep, but they wouldn’t let me.

My head leaned against the cold edge of the bath. Cora sponged my forehead while Derek paced the room restlessly, biting his nails. I had never seen him do that.

“Don’t bite your nails,” I whispered.

He looked at me. “You’re dying, Stiles. I can bite whatever the hell I want.”

“I’m not dying,” I croaked.

Derek made a face, both of us knowing that this wasn’t true. The wolf’s common sense was fighting against his emotions.

Sourwolf knew he should bring me to a hospital no matter what. We both knew that. But he also knew that I would run away again as soon as I could, too scared to face my dad.

I had killed that Wendigo and it didn’t matter that he had wanted to kill me first. Above all, I hadn’t felt guilty the moment he died. That came only later. At that moment, I had felt only relief, knowing that he would never come after my dad again.

I couldn’t think about this any longer. I wanted something else to talk about. Cora dabbed her sponge over my chest next, while Braeden and Derek moved to my right and assessed the damage to my shoulder.

“How have you guys been?” I asked with my eyes closed.

The three of them stared at me as if I had gone crazy.

“Stiles, you’re losing it,” Derek almost snapped.

“I missed you guys,” I murmured.

“We missed you too,” Cora spoke. “You didn’t know we were loving together again, did you? I moved back to Derek’s place in the woods a few months ago. We have our own little pack now. It’s great.”

“Glad you and Braeden are still together,” I sighed, even though I lied through my teeth. I felt nothing but jealousy over their easygoing relationship.

“Stiles.” Derek hovered over me. “We are not together.”

I pried one eye open.

“You’re not?”

“Nope.”

Braeden smiled while I shut my eyes again, trying to soak into the coolness of the water.

“Do you really think a girl like me would stick to one guy, Stiles? You should know better than that. Besides, Derek is spoken for.”

Disappointed rained over me. I felt a tear slip through my closed eyelids.

“That’s great,” I muttered.

“Stiles, stop talking,” Derek said gently. “Just concentrate on getting better now, okay?”

I nodded. Truth to be told, I felt crappier than before. Yes, the water cooled me down, but that was all. My lungs had trouble taking in enough air. I felt like I was suffocating.

That shoulder of mine was slowly killing me. Donovan would get what he wanted after all. The fevers that ran through my veins were so high that I knew nothing would save me, except for a hospital and the right medication. I closed my eyes, forcing to ignore the pain.

“My guy is here,” Braeden said when she received a text message. “Be right back.”

She took off before we could stop her.

“Let’s get him out,” Cora said, “This isn’t helping much.”

Derek felt my forehead. “He’s cooled down a little.”

Derek leaned forward and pulled me out of the tub without any effort to it. Cora put a large towel over me and padded me down. I lay in his arms again, bridal style. He looked down on me with such care and affection in his eyes I felt guilt.

“Sorry for fucking up your plans,” I muttered while he moved me back to the bed.

Cora placed two more towels over me and continued padding me down.

“Do you have any other clothes on you?” Cora asked, rummaging through my bag.

“Just a few,” I muttered.

“Got it.”

Cora dig up a fresh pair of boxers and handed them to Derek.

“Stiles, I’m going to strip off that wet pair of boxers and then redress you, okay?” Derek said. “I’ll try not to touch your junk.”

“Let’s save that for later,” I mumbled deliriously, receiving a shocked gaze from Derek.

Cora coughed behind her hand, before keeping the towel decently over my lower body. Beneath the towel, Derek quickly slipped off the wet boxers and replaced them with the fresh pair. He also dressed me in a pair of sweatpants from my bag.

Braeden came back in holding a large bag of medication that didn’t seem all too legal.

“Okay, so I’ve got antibiotics and fever medication. These things are pretty heavy so he’ll be out for a while when we give them,” she explained. “I’ve got paddings and salve for the shoulder too. We’ll need to clean that wound, but Stiles, I need to tell you that it’ll hurt like hell.”

“I can drain his pain,” Cora offered. “We can take turns.”

“That’s good,” Braeden said.

“Are you sure these will work?” Derek frowned worried, pointing at the bag of medication. “I’m not so sure this is a good idea. They’ll mix with his ADHD meds. He might have an allergic reaction to them. His body is already under a lot of strain. Anything could tip him over now.”

“Didn’t take my meds for a while,” I muttered, causing to frown again.

I was a flailing person by nature. Being as calm as I was right now, meant I was in really bad shape. Braeden prepared two syringes, which she placed on the nightstand.

“It’s our only option,” she said. “Derek, he’ll be fine.”

“I have a bad feeling about this,” the wolf spoke, gazing at Cora, who frowned too.

The expressions on their faces cut in deep. I realized there and then that I was putting them through hell with my stubbornness. If I died tonight, they would carry that guilt with them forever.

“Derek,” I whispered, grabbing his wrist. “Take me to a hospital. You are right, I’ll die here. Let them arrest me then, I don’t care.”

The two wolves and Braeden sighed in relief, as if they had waited for me to get some sense into me.

“That’s good, Stiles,” Derek smiled. “You’ll be fine, I promise, but this is the best way forward. Do you want me to call your dad?”

I considered that, knowing how much I missed my dad and Lydia and Malia and … no, not Scott. Scott had believed Theo. Theo was behind all this, I knew this. I could feel it. What if he had sent Donovan after me? Oh god, what if he had told Scott poisoned stories about me? What if they all thought I had done this on purpose, set up the whole thing?

“Stiles? Hey Stiles, focus. What do you want me to do?” Derek asked, slightly shaking me.

“Call my dad,” I croaked. “And Lydia and Malia. Not Scott. He won’t forgive me. He won’t understand.”

“Okay Stiles. Okay, I won’t call Scott,” Derek promised. “Braeden, where is the nearest hospital?”

“About ten minutes by car.”

“Good. We’ll take him there. We won’t have enough time to move him to Beacon Hills.”

“The wound,” I sighed. “They’ll ask questions.”

“We’ll tell them you were bitten by a wild animal,” Cora said. “Don’t worry, Stiles, we’ve got that covered. Just relax now.”

I smiled wearily. “Thanks, Cora.”

She squeezed my hand and then moved together with Braeden into upright position while Derek dug up a T-shirt and started to gently move my arms one by one through the sleeves.

The next moment I felt myself sliding forward into his arms. I could hear him shout.

“Braeden, his heart is slowing down. I need help!”

And then I was no more.

***

I wish I could reassure you all that I saw the light and that my mom was waiting on the other side, but there was nothing but a sort of deep sleep. A darkness so still, that it felt like you were all alone.

The only thing I felt and heard was some sort of pounding and blurred voices that seemed to come through a fog.

“Not like this,” I heard someone shout. “Come on, Stiles. Come on!”

I coughed and spat as another pound on my chest brought my heart back to life. I could feel hands on my face, a mouth on my mouth. It was Braeden who breathed air into my lungs and Derek who had resuscitated me. Cora stood behind them with her eyes wrung together.

“He’s back,” Derek replied with a sigh, wiping the sweat off his brow. “God damnit Stiles, don’t you ever do that to me again.”

I didn’t need to ask what happened. My heart was so weak. In a few hours I would be dead. Derek lifted me off the bed and into his arms again, holding me easily as if I weighed absolutely nothing.

“Grab his things. We have to go now,” he ordered the two women.

The door was opened by Braeden. I blinked against the bright and fiery sunlight and kept my head against Derek’s chest, closing my eyes.

“We’ll take my SUV,” Derek said, walking firmly to a large black vehicle I had never seen before. “Braeden, you take Stiles’ jeep and follow us to the hospital. Cora, you come with me. You’re driving.”

Cora opened the back door, watching while Derek and Braeden gently placed me on the leather back seat. Derek moved in too, sliding my head on his lap.

Cora rushed behind the wheel. Derek gently stroked my hair, running his fingers through it with soothing gestures.

I was on my side, with my arms around my abdomen, trying to move that hurting shoulder too much. Derek’s comforting gestures soothed me. We knew we didn’t have much time left. His greatest fear was that I would go into cardiac arrest again in the car.

“You can’t do this to me, Stiles,” Derek whispered gently. “Please don’t leave me.”

I pried one eye open in an attempt to look at him, but he stopped me by pushing my head back down.

“Yeah Derek, boss me around,” I muttered.

“Shut up, Stiles,” he said with a smile in his voice.

It made me look up again. This time, our eyes connected and we both knew right there and then how bad it had been without each other’s company.

Derek meant the world to me and I had let him go. Beacon Hills had not been the same since. God, I missed him so much. I missed his guidance and his affection and the way he used to boss me around.

With Scott, things had been quite different. Scott has changed so much. He had always been occupied with a lot of other things, like Allison and then Kira, but mostly, he hadn’t listened to me when I told him Theo was bad news.

He had preferred to believe a total stranger over me. It wasn’t a coincidence that kid came back at the same time things started going to hell in Beacon Hills. My dad had believed me, but he was too busy saving teenagers. I had never felt so alone as I did over the past weeks. Everything had changed.

“I’m so glad you came,” I croaked.

“I will always come for you, Stiles,” he reacted softly.

As strange as it may seem under these circumstances, I was somehow strangely happy that this had happened, that we still had the chance to see each other once more before I died.

“If I die, it’s not your fault,” I whispered.

“Stiles – “

“I mean it, Derek. None of this is on you. It’s on me. I was just so scared, Der. So fucking scared. Things haven’t been the same again since you left. I am so lost.”

“Scott should be here.”

“He won’t forgive me.”

“Would he have rather had a dead best friend?” Derek spoke, anger radiating in his voice.

“We don’t kill people,” Stiles murmured, closing his eyes again. “That’s the rule.”

“You are human.”

“Not important.”

“I’m sorry, Stile. “I’m so sorry that you had to go through this,” Derek whispered. He entwined his fingers with mine.

I fell asleep like that.

Derek’s hand patted my cheek.

“Don’t sleep.”

“I’m tired, Der.”

“I know, but you might not wake up.”

His voice was so calm, so straightforward, that I realized he could be right. If I let myself go now, I could be gone forever. So I focused on the seat ahead of me and counted the small leather dots that were pressed into the fabric. By the time we got to the ER, I had counted eighty-nine.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the many kudos and comments!   
> In this chapter, Stiles fights for his life.

**Chapter 3**

Derek’s jeep stopped. I heard a flurry of voices, followed by the opening of doors and people crawling into the back of the large vehicle to take a good look at me.

“Large infected animal bite on the right shoulder, spiking fevers, most likely to blood infection, has gone into cardiac arrest once. This kid is very, very sick.”

I didn’t know who was saying all of this. I just knew that there were men and women in white suits hovering over, taking me away from Derek, Braeden and Cora.

Somehow, they lifted me out of the back of the jeep without much difficulty, even with my head still on Derek’s lap.

Next, I was strapped on a gurney and wheeled into an ER. Then came a flurry of activity that I could hardly follow.

“Let’s get moving, folks,” someone said.

A male voice ordered his nursing staff around. An oxygen mask was placed over my face. The pain of an IV being stuck into my hand made me cringe. Monitors and the beeping of machines showed in what bad shape I really was.

All of this faded away in one big pile of noise. Blood tests had to confirm their suspicion. I was turned on my side to assess the wound on my shoulder.

“Never seen anything like it. Does anybody have any idea what kind of animal could do something like this?”

“No. We found him in the woods like this,” Derek’s voice came. “We were out hiking and we lost him. When we got to him, he was already running high fevers and was pretty delirious.”

“You said he was still alert and speaking before? I’d call that a small miracle on its own. We have to go in and drain that wound quite deep, I’m afraid. Scraping it on the surface won’t cut it.”

The doctor barked more orders.

“High risk surgery. Spiking fevers. Warn the ICU. We’ll do it now. The fevers will go down when we get that wound cleaned. Antibiotics won’t cut it.”

“Alright. Okay. Alright. Just do whatever it takes,” Derek said, discussing with the doctors. “His father is on the way, he’ll give you consent.”

“I need to talk to him.”

The doctor moved away with Derek. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I knew they were talking to my dad.”

My clothes were long gone, cut open by the nursing staff. I was on a gurney now, dressed only in a hospital gown, with an IV pushed in my vein and an oxygen mask on my face.

They prepped me for emergency surgery. I saw my friends hover over me as my tired eyes tried to fight back sleep.

Derek smiled gently when he came back.

“You’ll be fine, Stiles. People like you don’t die like this.”

To my shock, he leaned forward and gently kissed me on the forehead.

“You’re in good hands now, okay?”

He kept his hand on mine when Cora came next. To my surprise, she briefly kissed me on the cheek.  Braeden laid her hand on my arm for one second.

“Hey kid, you’ll make it. Go get them,” she said.

Cora reacted with a curt, “Of course he will.”

Derek’s eyes were brimming with tears. God, he must be so exhausted. He reluctantly let go of my hand.

“We’ll see you when you get back. I’ll be here.”

Then they were gone and I was wheeled away with a crazy speed – or so it seemed – towards an elevator.

There were three people going with me, constantly monitoring my condition. I was too tired by now to even give any witty responses.

The gurney was brought down to the basement floor where a number of surgeons and a nursing staff waited for me.

Another mask replaced the other one on my face, another push of medication in my IV made sure that I slept. Before I could even say anything, I was gone. Just like that.

***

Beeping sounds … all around me, there were beeping sounds. I knew where I was of course. My brain recovered quickly enough to remember that. I was pretty sick though.

Medical staff walked in and out of the small cubicle that was my own little, private ICU unit. Every ten minutes or so, I was checked, prodded and examined, over and over again.

Sometimes I heard sounds coming from other cubicles. Other times it seemed as if I was all alone on the floor. Maybe it was nighttime then, who knows.

I fell in and out of consciousness, couldn’t keep my eyes open long enough to say something coherent. I just slept, slept, slept.

There were weird dreams sometimes about kanima and wolves and wendigo and bites and my shoulder hurt and reminded me of why I was here and more nightmares and shouts and then there was only the dark.

My life consisted of waking and sleeping, waking and dreaming.

I knew machines were breathing for me. Without them, I would be dead right now. A tube was lodged inside my throat, pushing air into me.

An IV pushed fluids into me. More wires were hooked onto machines to make sure I didn’t die. I didn’t care really. I just slept and slept and slept.

Until finally, at some point, my eyelids weren’t as heavy anymore and I managed to pry them open for longer than a few seconds.

The tube was gone by then. Oxygen was pushed in my nostrils through a small tube. The IV was still there, so where the other machines.

“Look who’s awake,” a nurse said, hovering over me as soon as I woke up long enough to see her name. “How are you feeling, Stiles?”

Clarity reappeared in my head quite fast. My brain quickly restored. I remembered everything. I hesitated, wondering how to answer the woman.

How _was_ I feeling? Physically speaking, not too bad, actually. The pain in my shoulder was gone, except for a slight sting when I moved my arm or neck.

My head was not pounding as much. It just felt heavy and groggy from the medication, but thoughts were returning quickly to me.

“Stiles?” she repeated.

“Thirsty,” I finally said.

“Now that’s a good sign,” she smiled motherly. “Here.”

I wasn’t allowed to drink any water but the woman scooped some ice-chips into my mouth that instantly melted on my tongue. It tasted like heaven. I probably hadn’t eaten or drank in days. My throat felt raw and unused.

“How long …?” I rasped.

The woman continued to take care of me like a mother hen took care of her chicks. Her hands were busy fluffing my pillows, straightening my sheets and blankets and rearranging the wires and tubes so I could lie down more comfortably.

“Almost three days. You were brought in on a Friday, it’s Monday afternoon now. We took out your respiratory tube about an hour ago. You were showing signs of waking up and breathing on your own. Do you remember anything from your time with us?”

I thought about that and shook my head.

“Just bits and pieces.”

“You’ll be off some of these machines pretty soon now that you’re awake and so alert.”

Her eyes monitored me, while she took my temperature and other vitals.

“Your fever’s definitely down and you’re no longer delirious, so that’s pretty good. I think we’ve gotten through the worst of it.”

“What happened?”

“That animal bite on your shoulder was pretty infected. Bacteria made it into your blood, which was why you were feeling so sick. You had raging fevers and your body was at first battling the treatment, so we had to switch cures a couple of times. Fortunately, the last series of medication seemed to do the trick. It was touch and go there for a while, kid.”

She spoke fondly to me, but I could tell the professional seriousness in her voice. She wasn’t fooling around. I had nearly died because of Donovan.

“Your dad said you would surprise us all the moment you woke up,” the nurse continued. “Apparently, your brain catches on pretty quickly once you were off heavy painkillers. I must say I agree with him. You are very, very alert.”

I tried to smile, wondering what else they had said about me. Then I remembered what she said.

“My dad?”

She smiled.

“Yeah. Your dad and your friends have been hovering over you frantically over the past days. None of them would leave for a minute, so we forced them to take turns resting and cleaning up. The place started to reek of smelly feet.”

I smiled. Yep, that sounded familiar. I frowned, wondering who was here.

“Who?” I croaked.

“Your dad of course and that guy with the cute eyebrows. What’s his name, Erik? No, Derek. And a young girl with brown hair, I believe she’s his sister. Your dad also brought two girls with him from your hometown and a young man.”

I sighed deeply, realizing he must have brought Scott, despite my wishes. Oh god. The nurse saw my face fall, but she didn’t comment on it.

“Your boyfriend will want to see you soon,” the nurse continued. “He was quite frantic. Those eyebrows can act on their own, believe me. They betrayed his fears and mood all the time.”

“Boyfriend?” I repeated.

“Yeah, Derek is your boyfriend, right? I’ve rarely seen anyone so upset in here and believe me, we’ve seen them all. He wouldn’t leave your side, vowed to do anything to stick around. We felt so sorry for him we kept him in longer than normally allowed. He did have a soothing influence on you. You were very feverish and delirious, but when he was here, you calmed down immediately.”

“He’s not my …”

“Your dad,” the nurse continued, “was another thing. The poor man was tired, but he wouldn’t budge. We threatened to give him a sedative if he didn’t get some sleep. Derek took him to a hotel across the street. We promised to contact him if something would change, but truth be told, you’re too exhausted right now to have a long conversation with your friends and family, so I’m going to give you some time to recover and then we’ll see about moving you to a private room where your friends can be with you. How does that sound?”

“Can I see Derek?” I croaked. “Before I sleep again?”

“Just Derek,” the nurse said. “Two minutes. Deal?”

“Deal.”

My eyes drooped before Derek even came back in, but I forced myself to stay awake long enough for him to see me awake and alert.

God, that smile on his face when he saw me awake. He was so precious to me and I never even told him. I cared more for Derek than I cared about my own life.

Derek walked in and hurried towards my bed, cupping my face with both hands.

“God,” you’re awake,” he whispered in awe, immediately reaching for his phone. “I need to tell your dad.”

“Later,” I whispered, clutching his hand before he managed to grab the device. “Derek, does he know? My dad, does he know the truth?”

Derek frowned, looking at me in worry.

“Stiles, you just fought for your life, barely escaping alive. Do you really think that’s important right now?”

“It is to me,” I said. “Please, Der … did you tell him?”

Derek frowned.

“Stiles, I … you should talk to your dad about this, but …”

“Derek, please. Did he come to arrest me? Am I going to go to jail?”

Tears flowed down my face.

“Stiles. Calm down.”

Derek cupped my face again, staring into my eyes with a huge smile on his face, as if he was about to give me the world.

“Stiles, Donovan is gone. There was no body at the library when the deputy arrived after your 911-call that night. There is no trace of him.”

“What? But …”

“Whatever happened to Donovan or whatever occurred that night, there is no evidence of it at all. Stiles, he may even still be alive. It may all have been a bad dream. Whatever it was though, you are out in the clear. You can go home.”

Derek’s words disturbed me. That couldn’t be right. I watched Donovan die. I saw him with that beam in his chest. The way he stood there, literally nailed to the ground because of the fallen scaffolding, was real. I saw it with my own two eyes. That was not a dream.

“He’s alive?” I croaked.

Derek’s words had the exact opposite effect on me. Donovan was alive. He had somehow managed to survive that night and he was alive. He would come back to get his revenge. He would kill me and my dad.

Oh god. Oh no …

“Stiles? Stiles, breathe. Stiles, you’re fine. Stiles! Doc? Nurse? Anyhow?” he cried out disturbed.

I stared in shock at Derek, who faded in an out of my view. He held me against him in comfort, but it was too late. I saw only red.

Blood red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you again!  
> in the next chapter, Stiles talks to his dad. But where does Scott stand in all of this?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who is following and commenting on this story!  
> I'm actually debating right now to make it a longer one, since my muze suddenly told me to do something more with this.  
> What do you think? Let me know when you read this chapter.

**Chapter 4**

I woke up again in the ICU, groaning lightly when I remembered what had happened earlier. Panic instantly struck hard, but this time, it didn’t get to do its thing.

Instantly, my dad was by my side. He had come back from the hotel and they must have told him about my panic attack and the sedative they forced upon me. Derek was nowhere to be seen, but I figured out that they had done this deliberately, to show me dad would not give up on me.

His hand rested gently on my arm. He forced me to look at him, even though I was too ashamed to do so at first. I had left Beacon Hills head over heels and dumped my shit on him. That, I realized just now.

Why hadn’t I trusted him before? He would have helped me, I was sure of that. Because I’m a murderer now. I killed. I killed Donovan and Derek could not persuade me that that fact wasn’t true.

“You’re okay, kiddo,” my dad urged, shook up by my silence.

I had been quiet more than not after the Nogitsune, something my dad must have noticed too. Things had just never been the same since that time. I was no longer the carefree kid that mocked wolves and supernatural creatures and got away with it. Beacon Hills had turned into a dark, dreary place.

“You’re still in the hospital and you’ll be fine, I promise,” dad went on. “I’m here now. You’re not alone, Stiles. You never will be.”

A nurse walked back in and checked me over as if I hadn’t just freaked out like a madman. She smiled brightly, ignoring the fact that this was the freaking ER.

“His fever’s definitely down,” she said with a satisfied smile while she addressed my dad as if I was non-existent. “I’ll get a doctor.”

She left dad and I alone and we just looked at each other awkwardly. I didn’t know what to say to him. He felt like a complete stranger to me. Or maybe I had become the stranger. What had happened to us to get us to this point in time?

I had become a fugitive. I had nearly died. I had killed. And dad just looked at me awkwardly, searching for the words that wouldn’t drive me away again.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, kiddo,” dad said relieved. “We thought we had lost you.”

“I’m sorry, dad,” I whispered, falling apart at the seams. “I …”

Dad stroked my face gently, like he used to do when I was a kid having nightmares over mom.

“Don’t be, kid. You were stressed out and in shock. I saw that wound. God, if I get my hands on that kid, I swear to God …”

“He died, dad,” I stopped my father’s rant. “I swear that Donovan died. He died because I killed him. He died because I tried to escape.”

“Stiles, …”

“No, dad, hear me out,” I urged him, feeling the urge to pore it all out. “I need to say this, okay? I know that he’s gone, but you didn’t find his body. I don’t get that, dad. I saw him dead. I just don’t know how he got from the point of being dead to being alive again.”

“Okay, kid. Just relax and take your time, okay?” my dad said, taking my hand in his. “I believe you, you know that. I believe every single word you say.”

The doctor stepped in before I could say anything. The man asked some questions, did some quick tests and declared me healthy enough to be moved to a private room.

Dad and I shared a glance. I kept my mouth shut while they prepped me for the move. In the confinement of a private room, I could tell him everything. That had to wait for a little while longer.

When they wheeled me out, I saw Derek, Cora, Malia and Lydia. Scott was nowhere in sight, for which I was grateful. It gave me some reprieve from facing him. That would be the hardest part.

My friends and dad followed me to the room and waited until I was fully installed. I felt better already, looking out the window. This was better than the ICU.

After a while the nurses left us alone. My friends ran over and gave me hugs and kisses, before they started to talk through each other, firing questions at me.

“Stop,” Derek barked suddenly. “Stiles is exhausted, can’t you see that? He needs his rest. Let’s give him that, okay? Anything else can wait until later.”

Derek shooed everyone out of the room, except for my dad. I was grateful for that. How could he sense what I needed so badly right now? I didn’t want to talk to anyone but him, to confess to him what I had done. I needed to tell him. Dad needed to know.

“Derek is right, kid. You do need you rest,” dad said.

“Not yet,” I spoke hoarsely. “Dad, I need to tell you this first. I need to do it now before I lose my nerve.”

“Okay, kiddo,” dad spoke. “You can tell me your story. Just relax.”

Dad sat at the side of my bed and held my hand in his while I told him everything. He listened without asking a single question and then he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Do you believe me, dad?” I asked quietly, rubbing my shoulder on instinct. It itched.

“I do, Stiles. There is no doubt in my mind that this was real, but you have to know one thing: this was not murder. It was self-defense. He would have killed you if you hadn’t defended yourself. He wouldn’t have hesitated. He was just a kid too, but he was evil. We all knew that.”

“Then why does it feel as if I’ve lost part of myself, dad?” I croaked.

“Because you did.”

“How do I get it back?”

“You don’t. You won’t. You’ll have to live with this for the rest of your life, but I am there to help you get through this and I’ll never let you down.”

Dad took me in his arms and held me tight.

“I ran because I was ashamed,” I whispered.

“You ran because you hated yourself,” dad corrected me. “But you are still my son and I will not stop at anything to find out what really happened that night. I love you, Stiles and I will protect you from this. I would burn the whole sheriff’s station down when it came to protecting you. Believe me, Stiles. Believe me when I say that you have nothing to be ashamed of. You were attacked and you were hurt and you barely made it out alive. You are my son and I nearly lost you, kiddo. How can you not see that what you did was pure self-defense?”

“Part of me wanted him dead,” I croaked. “I was happy for one brief second that he was gone.”

“Which is perfectly natural, son. That kid was a Wendigo. He attacked you, bit you and he would have killed you without remorse if you had not climbed up that scaffold. But you are not to blame for wanting to survive.”

I held tight onto dad and wept, until there were no more tears left. He took all the time in the world with me, holding me tight as if he never wanted to let go.

“It’s okay, son,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”

When we finally let go of each other, dad cupped my face, wiped my tears with his thumb and looked at me sadly.

“What has become of our town and us that you would feel that you couldn’t tell me this?”

“It’s …” I stopped, trying to realize when all of this had started.

I knew of course. It started on that rainy night, the night before we started Senior Year. The night that Theo came back.

I looked up at my dad and opened my mouth to tell him, until a cough stopped us both. When I looked at the door, Scott was there. With Theo.

Oh god. Theo had come too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for reading!  
> well, suddenly Theo showed up and i just had to continue with this storyline.  
> What do you think? Expand the story?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the many kudos and comments!  
> Again my muze took over and well, things are getting rough between Scott and Stiles.  
> Read on ...

**Chapter 5**

“Stiles.”

Scott practically ran into the room towards my bed, reaching out for me on instinct. In his eyes, nothing had changed. I was still his best friend. In my eyes, everything had gone to hell.

“No.”

I moved backwards on the bed, hurting my shoulder in the process, before Scott could reach out to me. Later on, I would realize I was protecting myself on instinct.

If Scott came here with Theo, he still didn’t believe _my_ instincts. He still believed Theo over me and would continue to do so.

One look at Theo’s face proved that fact to me. He smirked; I couldn’t call it any other way. He folded his arms over each other and stood in the doorway, basically blocking me from fleeing should I desire to do so.

My shoulder itched, as if to remind me what I had barely survived. I reached for the wound, rubbing it with my eyes closed. When I looked up again, Scott had stopped in his tracks and stared at me as if I was some sort of stranger.

Theo just smirked.

“Stiles, what’s going on?”

Scott’s innocent eyes looked at me in shock, as if he couldn’t understand why I would pull back on him. Why I would deny his help and friendship.

“You ran,” he whispered hurt. “You ran away from me.”

I couldn’t reply without screaming. The past weeks had been pure hell for all of us. We were not the same anymore. Darkness had overwhelmed us all and there was nothing to stop it from getting worse.

The Dread Doctors was one thing. Theo was the second. I just knew. By the look on my dad’s face, he knew too. I watched Derek enter the room, pushing past Theo to do so.

They didn’t know each other, but I saw in Derek’s eyes that he supported me and had my back. That gave me the confidence I needed to go against Scott for once in my life.

I was so angry. So damned angry and upset. He had abandoned me in times of need. I was only human after all. I could get hurt. Could die. Never before had this struck me so hard as now. Never.

It had gotten too dark. Death had gotten too close and Scott didn’t even take notice. He had been too busy doing whatever else to save his damned town, when he couldn’t even see me for what I was: a regular, human teenager in danger.

Why hadn’t he paid closer attention to Donovan? Why hadn’t he figured out that Donovan was a Chimera too? He should have known.

Anger and upset turned into distress when I realized that I had been left to my own devices. Again. Scott had been too busy finding the bodies and looking for ways to save evil that didn’t want to be saved.

If he had been at the library that night, he probably would have allowed himself to be killed and then excuse his murderer for killing him. It wasn’t Donovan’s fault after all. That’s what he would have said.

Well, I almost died because of that Chimera and I wasn’t going to allow myself to be hurt any longer. It was over. I was over and done with. Let him believe Theo then, for all I cared. I was done.

After everything that had ever happened to me, from being attacked by Derek and Peter, to the Jackson-Kanima who attacked me twice and nearly drowned me too, to the Alpha Pack and my dad almost getting killed after I crashed my car and ran around with a concussion for hours, to the Nogitsune taking over because the Darach gave him free access to my brain doing all those evil things and trying to take over constantly, to Mexico and Kate who tried to attack me at the morgue, to nearly dying at Eichen house, twice, to being attacked by another Kanima, to getting nearly killed Donovan after being neglected by Scott. I was done. No. Enough. I’d had enough.

“Stiles, what’s going on?” Scott repeated.

He tried to reach for me a second time. Derek stopped him with a simple growl. I looked away from Scott, refusing to stare at his wounded gaze.

“Dude, why did you run?”

I gazed over his shoulder at Theo.

“Not with him in the room,” I said, looking desperately at my dad and Derek.

They understood immediately.

“You. Out,” my dad ordered Theo around.

“I just came to see how you were doing, Stiles,” Theo spoke innocently. “We’re friends, aren’t we? I helped save Lydia, remember? Why are you doing this?”

“Never,” I spoke vehemently. “You gave me to _him_.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” Theo spoke innocently. “Why do you think I’ve got anything to do with this?”

“Because you do,” I snapped. “I know it. All of this started with you.”

“Stiles, he came with me to help,” Scott spoke. “He felt something was wrong with you before I even knew it. He went to the library that night and saw you and Donovan inside. He couldn’t help you on time.”

I looked at Scott in shock, who took that as a sign to continue.

“When … you know, after it happened, he tried to stop you, but you were already gone. He saw you run out and head towards your jeep, looking scared and upset. He called me, but you were gone by then. When I got to the library, there was no sign of you. You left without even trying to call us. We went to your house and you were already gone. Theo tried to help you, Stiles.”

“No.” I shook my head. “He set it all up. He did this to me. He’s lying.”

God, my shoulder hurt so badly. I knew I was right. If Theo had been there, he would have stopped Donovan from killing me. He didn’t.

He never showed up, he never helped me. Why didn’t he? He had plenty of time. I remembered every detail of it. There was enough time to save me.

“I’m sorry I came in too late to save Donovan, Stiles,” Theo spoke.

“He lies,” Derek said curtly.

Theo turned to the wolf.

“Listen to my heartbeat. It’s steady, isn’t it?”

“That doesn’t mean that you’re not lying,” Derek replied again, showing the fierceness in his eyes.

“Stiles, why is Derek being so negative towards Theo?” Scott asked quietly. “Theo tried to save you. I hear no lie in his heartbeat. He’s telling the truth.”

“He’s lying,” I said in tears, rubbing my shoulder. I was so tired.

“You’re upsetting my son,” my dad said, looking at Theo. “I suggest you go.”

“Sir, I’m here to help,” Theo insisted, walking towards me. Derek’s firm hand stopped him. “Stiles, I’m your friend.”

“Daddy …” I pleaded distressed.

“Out!” my dad yelled.

He reached out for me on instinct when Theo again moved forward. Scott didn’t even move. He just stood there in shock.

The door opened to show the other pack members in. They all watched the scene unfold in surprise. Malia looked at Theo with hatred in her eyes, telling me I was right. She detested him too. She felt it too.

“Get him out,” Lydia spoke, instead of Malia. “Stiles is hurt and sick. He doesn’t need this right now.”

“If you don’t get out, I’ll drag you myself,” Cora snapped, walking in too. She shared a look with her brother.

Derek stepped in, almost dragging Theo outside before he could reach me. He didn’t fight back. He walked out with him, followed by the girls and my dad. Scott remained behind.

Dad hugged me and then whispered in my ear that I could do this. I just needed to tell him how I felt. Scott watched the whole scene unfold in obvious shock.

The door closed. I rubbed my shoulder. Felt distressed. Feared that my words would be taken the wrong way. I had to confront Scott, but it would be hard.

Scott would never believe me and he would never forgive me for killing Donovan. He believed everyone over me, like he always did. All of that became obvious to me now.

He dumped me while I was drowning at the pool, didn’t come looking for me when I crashed my jeep, didn’t even believe me when I said I had the key to the science lab when I swore I did. He never believed me, but he believed total strangers.

Maybe I didn’t care anymore.

I’d been neglected so many times that it felt almost normal to be neglected once more. After all, Scott believed a complete stranger over me. He had done that so many times before.

He trusts everyone, after all. He just never trusts me. He prefers to trust Theo. I could see it in his eyes.

“Take a seat, Scott,” I said quietly. “Trust me, you’ll need it.”

Scott, the teenager I once trusted with my life, sat down and waited for me to begin. When I didn’t, he opened his mouth.

“They said you killed Donovan, or at least that you think you did. Is that true?”

“Who said that?” I asked.

“Well, Theo told me on the way over and …”

“How?”

“How what?”

“ _How_ did he say I killed Donovan?”

Scott hesitated.

“He showed me a bloodied wrench from your jeep. I saw and smelled the blood on it. He said you were being attacked by Donovan at the library and that you used the wrench to defend yourself. That you bashed his head in. That you cracked his skull and lost control.”

I bit my lip.

“Do you believe him?”

Scott hesitated. One second too long. He believed him. He actually believed I would be capable of such a hateful act. That I would lose control.

God. The Nogitsune. We had never been the same since. He had seen what that thing was capable of and he believed I was capable of the same. I had always believed he would never trust me again. Guess what? He didn’t.

“He attacked me. Bit me in the shoulder. I had a wrench in my hand and knocked him backwards, hence the blood. I ran inside the library. He taunted me and attacked me. I crawled up a scaffold and pulled at a pin. It crashed down on him and he died.”

I looked in Scott’s eyes, waiting for his reply.

“Your heart tells me you’re telling me the truth,” Scott spoke quietly. “There’s no lie in it.”

I held my breath.

“Did you really need to listen to my heartbeat to believe me?” I asked quietly.

Scott looked at me innocently, not understanding me. I shook my head in disbelief, not believing what just happened right in front of me. How could he do this to me?

Scott noticed my distress and swallowed away his stress, keeping his eyes on me all the time.

“Stiles, you’re hurt and upset and under the influence of medication, which makes you too emotional right now. And I’m so sorry that this had to happen to you, but you ran away. You ran and you left us all in fear and wonder and with a lot of questions. How can you not know that I would be asking questions too about your behavior? You’ve been acting off for quite some time.”

“You believed him over me,” I interrupted Scott. “Which is why I run away. _You_ are the reason that I ran, Scott. Only you and your belief that you can save everyone, despite what they do and what they’re capable of.”

“I don’t …”

“You do! You defend everyone and every creature of the night, but you would never forgive your best friend. You would hate me for killing Donovan, no matter if it was an accident or not. You hate me now,” I pointed out.

“I don’t hate you at all and I do get it, Stiles. It was self-defense.”

“Was it?” I looked him in the eye. “Are you sure I didn’t want him dead, Scott? I’m a former Nogitsune after all. I caused chaos, strive and pain. I pushed a sword into you. I’m constantly angry and upset. Isn’t that what you said earlier?”

“You haven’t been yourself, but that doesn’t make you a murderer,” he said quietly. “Stiles, I believe you. I believe _in_ you.”

“No, you don’t,” I said calmly. “You believe in Theo. You still do. Did you know that Donovan nearly killed me? That my shoulder is bearing a huge scar right now? That I’ll see this forever? That I’ll carry this with me for the rest of my life? Do you want to see the scar, Scott? Do you want to see what happens when humans like me get attacked by creatures like him?”

Scott bit his lip, looking away.

“Come on, Scott. You’re not queasy, are you?” I continued. “Take a look.”

Before he could react, I reached for Scott’s wrist and pulled him closer, wincing when I hurt my shoulder in the process. I didn’t stop though. I pulled back the hospital gown, ripped off the bandage and showed Scott the aching, massive scarring on my shoulder.

He held his breath, staring at the wound. Then he looked me in the eye.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Little too late,” I reacted coolly. “Get out and take your new best friend with you. I don’t want to see you again.”

“Stiles …”

“You believed him over me. I will never forgive you for that, Scott. Never. Get out. I’m tired.”

He hesitated.

“Maybe you should get out of town for a while,” he said. “You know, get a breather. Take a break. You’ll feel better.”

“Are you kicking me out?” I asked.

“Stiles …”

“You are seriously kicking me out,” I laughed bitterly. “But you know what? I don’t care, Scott. I want my life back. I want a normal existence. So, get the hell out.”

“You dragged me into the woods that night, Stiles,” Scott said. “You started this in the first place. Did you forget that?”

“Go to hell, Scott,” I snapped, losing control.

“Stiles, don’t say that stuff. You’re angry, yes, but … come on, man, just take a break and then come back. Theo says …”

“Get out!” I screamed, causing my dad and Derek to return.

Scott turned around with that hurt look in his eyes that would normally get me running at his beckon and call. But not this time.

“I’m leaving the pack,” I whispered behind him, but he didn’t turn around.

“There is no pack left anyhow,” came his broken reply.

He was right. We were a broken pack. We were no longer friends. We were no more. And I didn’t care. I didn’t care one bit.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you again for reading!


	6. chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so very, very much for your comments and kudos for this story!   
> I have one more chapter to go after this one that I'll post tomorrow or Friday. I cannot say enough how much love you guys have given me.   
> thanks so much for that!   
> In this chapter, Stiles takes some important decisions and gets some much-needed love

Chapter 6

Dad and Lydia went back to the hotel with Cora to get some sleep. Scott had left with Theo, not calling, texting or sending any messages at all to apologize. I refused to do the same, knowing that if I did, I would blow up.

Scott would never get it anyhow. We were through. I knew that now more than ever, even though I had been telling myself for quite some time that things were still the way they were.

They weren’t and hadn’t been for years. This, the arrival of Theo, had confirmed this fact. Scott had betrayed me. He preferred to stick around Theo instead of me and I knew exactly why.

I had become a liability to him, the person that wasn’t to be trusted around his precious pack anymore because I had a dark side to me that was undeniably and always there.

Deaton had told us we would always carry around a darkness in our hearts and with me, that had become quite obvious when the Nogitsune took control.

I had liked the power, which I had honestly admitted to Scott. When I was forced to watch and saw that demon inside of me do the things that he did, I had felt some of the power that he had carried with him for ages.

That rubbed off on me, but it didn’t make me a bad person. I had known what it was like to be someone as powerful as he and I had still chosen to end it.

I could have easily stayed where I was, being part of a creature so strong that it would destroy the world. I had made the decision to listen to Scott’s roar and come back to this world, and I had often regretted it.

This world was one of pain and strive and fear, and it was harsh on me. It was painful. I had lost too when that thing died. I had watched it perish and I had known that I would forever be cold and unable to feel warm again.

When Malia came into my life, I felt better. I had something to focus on, to help her and to stay away from the darkness that often called on me in the middle of the night.

Malia had kept me from going insane, but she hadn’t been able to protect me from the evil that lived in Beacon Hills. Evil that would forever be there.

Scott didn’t see that sometimes you needed to be a little bit bad to survive. I hadn’t been evil when Donovan died. I hadn’t used special powers or hatred or anything like that when he attacked me. I wished that I had when I stood waiting for him at the library, not knowing where he was.

I had been terrified and unable to stop him from attacking me, from grabbing my legs and hurting me. Biting in my shoulder.

If I had been evil, I would have destroyed him like he meant nothing and be done with it. Now, I suffered nightmares from it and would do so for the rest of my life.

How could I tell Scott that, when he wouldn’t even believe me when I said that it was an accident without listening to my heartbeat? He would let me die if it meant saving someone else. I knew that now.

Scott was, after all, trying to protect people, even when they didn’t need protecting. He was trying to save the Chimeras, when there was no saving them. He would rather have Donovan back in Beacon Hills so he can repeat what he did to me, than to have him dead.

Dad told me Scott was heading back to Beacon Hills with Theo, while Braeden was taking Malia back to in a different car.

While I was out, Braeden had been doing a lot of research through the supernatural underground channels where she often consulted her friends and colleagues.

They had warned her against the Dread Doctors, the creatures that seemed to be evading our towns. Others knew about their reputation.

Apparently, they had been around for quite a bit and were dangerous. Some said they were immortal and came to Beacon Hills for a dangerous quest.

She also found out that there was something else living in the town that was hiding the bodies, which was a shock to me. Her friends were thinking about a certain supernatural creature that was to protect everything having to do with the supernatural. To cover it up.

It would explain the missing bodies. It would explain how Donovan could have vanished from the library like that, when he couldn’t have possibly have survived that beam through his chest.

In a way I was relieved that this had happened. Donovan was dead and he was missing, meaning that he was now being treated like a missing person’s case. Meaning that I was not officially accused of manslaughter or murder.

I was glad he was still dead, I can’t deny that. Not that Scott would see it like that. All he wanted, was to find the Chimeras and save as many as he could. He thought that assholes like Donovan could be saved too.

Scott didn’t care about me and he couldn’t care less that his quest to save as any many as he could, would cost him his life.

Which, ultimately, it might wind up doing. Things were not the same in Beacon Hills and they hadn’t been since Donovan, Tracy, Theo and the Dread Doctors.

Apparently, so Lydia said, Liam was backing Scott up too, trying to help as much as he could with Mason. When I asked Lydia what she wanted to do, she just frowned and said that she needed to go back, finish her school and talk to Parrish.

Poor kids. I knew where Liam and Mason came from and felt sorry for them. But I was glad too to have escaped it for now, even though I knew I would have to go back.

If I stayed away now, I would abandon the friends I still had, such as Lydia and Malia. Malia and I were not the same anymore, especially since I had run off without telling her.

Malia had told me earlier today that she hadn’t felt this way about me for some time and understood that I was not in love with her. We had been an item due to the circumstances, but never because we were meant to be together forever.

It pleased me that she saw that and that she had taken the liberty of ending our relationship in a clean manner. I loved her and always would, but it was the same kind of love that I gave to Lydia.

She took my virginity and I took hers. I would never forget that. I would never abandon her ever again, which I vowed to her before she left.

“It’s okay, Stiles,” she said, rubbing her fingers gently over my wounded shoulder. “I saw what he did to you and I saw how stressed out and sick you were. I would have run away too.”

I hugged her and asked her to stay safe. She was, after all, searching for her mother, the Desert Wolf. Which is why Braeden was going back with her now.

Malia hadn’t told Scott that she was doing so. She knew he wouldn’t understand. So she preferred to shut up. It made perfect sense, even if it was a bit sad that she wouldn’t confide in her Alpha.

Lydia and Parrish were becoming something of an item now. He had called her several times when she was with me. She told me how he had stayed by her side when she woke up after Tracy’s attack and how he had started teaching her how to protect herself.

I was happy for her. Like I said, I loved Lydia too, but she wasn’t the one for me. The one for me was the person sitting by my bed, staring at me with his hand in mine.

The one with eyes that looked at me with such care, it made me want to weep from happiness and joy.

“Come here,” I said, patting the bed.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Are you sure?”

“I am if you are.”

Derek didn’t hesitate. He moved to the bed, slipped off his shoes and sweater and crawled on top of the sheets, making sure I was still covered properly.

I was so tired it cost me a lot of effort to keep my eyes open, but I refused to give into sleep just yet. Derek smiled when he turned on his side and watched me fighting a useless battle.

“Are you okay?” he asked when I winced slightly.

The painkillers were okay but not enough to stop the full ache. Instinctively he grabbed my hand and started pulling some of the pain. It was a lot still, despite the painkillers.

They had to go in deep to get the infection fully. The doctors were still baffled over what kind of bite this was and I had told them something large attacked me and threw me to the ground.

“I’m fine,” I slurred. “Thanks for coming for me and saving my life, Der,” I whispered.

“Thank you for trusting me enough to save it in the first place,” Derek smiled, touching my face lightly.

I fell asleep with his head next to mine on the pillow, our foreheads touching lightly. I knew we needed to talk about tomorrow. I knew that I couldn’t escape Beacon Hills, even if I wanted to. I also knew he was going back with me.

Derek had told Braeden to head back with Malia, promising her he would come too to help protect the old Hale territory like he did in the past.

But first, he said, he had to do something else.

I knew what that was. He was going to turn himself into an Alpha again. I had watched him scroll some DarkNet sites with supernatural sightings, identifying dangerous Rogue Alphas that were roaming around the California area.

He would kill one and become an Alpha again. And then he would come home and protect his town against the supernatural that had invaded it so badly.

“I’m coming with you,” I whispered with my eyes closed, leaning against him. “You won’t be alone again.”

I felt his surprise, followed by his smile, followed by the move of his lips against mine. I didn’t open my eyes for it. I just let it happen.

“When you were so sick, I thought I had lost you,” he croaked. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

“I won’t,” I said. “But I won’t have to.”

“I don’t understand,” he whispered.

“I’ll never be in danger again as long as I’m with you,” I said, meaning what I said. “Because you’ll be there to protect me.”

He didn’t reply to that, but I could feel his smile brighten and his face lightening up. His fingers entwined with me. We fell asleep like that. In the morning, when I woke up, my blankets were covering him too.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it! The end of this story.  
> I hope you enjoyed it and wanted to thank you for the ride!

**Chapter 7**

 

My dad drove Lydia home, but he wasn’t too happy that I wasn’t coming with them. He begged and pleaded with me and in the end, he caved in.

He had a lengthy discussion with Derek about it and it was obvious then that I needed to get out of Beacon Hills, if only for a few days.

“Derek told me honestly what he’s going to do, kid,” my dad said, cupping my face gently. “I can’t say I’m happy about it, but if it means that he will get rid of a Rogue and at the same time come back to protect you and me and the rest of those Chimera kids, then I’m game. Just don’t ever tell me the details, okay? I can’t really cover that up.”

“I won’t, dad,” I said, hugging my father emotionally. “Trust me when I say that this isn’t easy for him, but it’s the only way to become the person he needs to be to protect his town.”

“I know, son,” dad spoke seriously. “I want you to know something else too: I want to tell you that I know you two belong together and that you have my blessing. It was a long time coming, wasn’t it? I saw your sadness when he was gone. You need him to function.”

“I do, dad,” I admitted. “I have never loved anyone like I love him. He completes me. I was sad and lonely without him. I know that now. It’s what has changed me over the past few months.”

“I know,” dad said. “I know you better than you think, son. I saw the grief. You were incomplete.”

That was the word: Incomplete.

Dad gave me a long and hard hug, followed by Lydia, who I hugged and whispered in her ear that Parrish would be good for her.

She looked at me surprised, before breaking into a smile and winking at Derek.

“I’d say that you’ve got your match right here too.”

With that, they left us alone. It was just Derek and me now and it felt like homecoming. He took me to the car, hovered around me as if I was the most precious thing in the world and helped me to get in.

The jeep was going to be driven back to Beacon Hills by Lydia, so Derek and I could move around in his jeep. God, I loved that thing.

“Where are we going?” I asked, just gazing at him.

“Monterey,” he said. “The Rogue is there.”

“Cool. And then?”

“Ever seen San Francisco?”

“Never,” I said.

“Cool, that will be your first time then. I suggest we take a few days off, do some sightseeing, get your shoulder healed up fully and then head back to Beacon Hills. What do you think?”

“Sounds like a plan,” I smiled. “Thanks, Der.”

He looked me in the eye.

“I need to thank you. It cost you nearly your life, but you and I are where we need to be. You are the one for me. I’ve never felt so complete.”

“My dad said something along those lines too,” I mused. “Funny, isn’t it, how things somethings happen because they are meant that way?”

“Even if it cost you your friendship with Scott?”

I bit my lip. Scott was the topic we had avoided so far. We knew that two Alphas was an issue. Then again, they had done it before.

Besides, Beacon Hills was Hale Land, it had always been that way. Scott would have to move if he didn’t like that.

“Can you live with him in the same town as you?” Derek asked quietly.

I thought of Scott and Theo and how buddy-buddy they seemed. I knew in my heart that Theo was behind Donovan and the Dread Doctors. I could feel it. I just couldn’t prove it.

Perhaps, with Derek by my side, I would be able to do so. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to use my darker self to stop him from wreaking havoc. Maybe I could be of help to Derek.

I thought about Lydia and Parrish and looked at the wolf by my side.

“When we’re in San Francisco, could you teach me some self-defense?” I asked. “You know, the real kind, not the one where I swing a bat at Alpha heads and have the thing break in half.”

Derek hummed quietly.

“What?” I asked cautiously.

“What if I taught you more than that?”

I raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“What if I taught you how to become a wolf?”

I stared at him in shock.

“You’re offering me the bite?”

He nodded gently.

“Only if you want it.”

I had to think about that. Peter had offered me the bite once and I had refused. I didn’t want to be like him. But did I want to be like Derek?

“I don’t know,” I murmured. “Being human has helped us out a lot too. And what if you get hurt by wolfsbane and need human help?”

“As a human, you get hurt more.”

“As a wolf, I can die of wolfsbane poisoning.”

“As a human, I can’t protect you,” he said.

I thought again of all the things that had happened to us. The events at the Jungle where Deaton told me I had a Spark.

What if that meant something too? What if …?

I looked him in the eye. “Have you ever heard of a Spark?”

Derek nearly pushed the break of his car. Then he looked aside, focusing on me briefly, before driving on.

“Yeah.”

“I have it.”

Derek broke into a smile and pulled over to watch me closer.

“You have a Spark?”

“I do.”

“Says who?”

“Deaton.”

“Okay.”

Derek drove on again.

“Okay? Is that all you’ve got to say on the topic?” I asked.

“Okay, as in, I know some people who can help. People who happen to live in San Francisco.”

“Who?” I prodded.

“You’ll see.”

“God, Der, please stop being so Deaton-Cryptic. Tell me what it means, dude.”

Derek laughed.

“Are you always this impatient?”

“Always. You’d better get used to it.”

Derek stretched out his hand and cupped my face briefly.

“I’ve got plenty of time for that.”

I smiled while I turned up the music and chose a godawful country music channel. Derek relaxed and drove calmer.

I loved the new him.

 

The End


End file.
